No blog for a few days. Nuff said

Now that they have gone and we are left with the Penguin News, will they be missed?

Certainly by the hotels and guest houses, which were fully booked over the referendum period. Perhaps by those who will miss their 15 minutes of fame (pace Andy Wharhol). Life has returned somewhat to normal. The flags have been taken down from lampposts, but still adorn vehicles all over town. The posters and stickers are beginning to look careworn and to peel at the edges. No doubt, in time, the strong UV light down here (the same latitude south as London is north – though without the Gulf Stream) will bleach the strong colours to a pale pink.
There will be a minor flurry of interest over the next few days with the publication of Mrs Thatcher’s papers from 1982. She does shine bright with moral courage and with firm conviction as to the right thing to do. Contrast this with weak people and ‘fellow travellers’ who just wanted to cave in and give up. A lot of ‘wringing of hands’ was evident and talk of buying off people and ‘the bottom line’ was rife.
The price of freedom is constant vigilance and the need from time to time to accept loss.

A previous ruler of Great Britain was well aware of this:

“I need not dwell upon the fatal effects of the success of such a plan. The object is too important, the spirit of the British nation too high, the resources with which God hath blessed her too numerous, to give up so many colonies which she has planted with great industry, nursed with great tenderness, encouraged with many commercial advantages, and protected and defended at much expense of blood and treasure.”
– George III October 26 1775 in Excerpt From: McCullough, David. “1776.” Simon & Schuster

These thoughts were shared also by the other side:

“I am well aware of the Toil and Blood and Treasure, that it will cost Us to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States. Yet through all the Gloom I can see the Rays of ravishing Light and Glory. I can see that the End is more than worth all the Means. And that Posterity will tryumph in that Days Transaction, even altho We should rue it, which I trust in God We shall not.”
– John Adams in JOHN ADAMS, letter to Abigail Adams, July 3, 1776.Adams Family Correspondence, ed. L. H. Butterfield, vol. 2, p. 31

It is a continuing cause of disappointment that the present US administration will not support the clear will of the Falkland Islanders. Have they forgotten the absolute principles of the founding fathers?

Once the very staple of heat on the islands, in Stanley, there are now few open peat fires.
Peat is being dug up to the east but not for the garden centre or the hearth. Cutting out the peat and the underlying clay reveals a firm surface for buildings that will serve the new oil industry. This peat is destined for Cape Pembroke and landscaping. It is gardening on a massive scale, not the humble spade, but the bulldozer.
Green plastic oil tanks squat in the gardens and the gentle peat smoke drifting down the streets is a rare olfactory delight. The oil drums cooking the household rubbish in the street have gone here, but are still in use in Camp. The wheelie bin now reigns supreme and the rubbish dump grows.
I’ve added a picture taken in 1996 of an oil drum for nostalgia – mind you, the smell from these was quite vile.

Beautiful Day

Tossed about the Southern Ocean and now at last into the Falklands. The Polar Pioneer (St Petersburg) disgorged its passengers into Stanley this morning. Calm waters at last. Told of the horrors of Falklands weather, the passengers regaining their land legs swathed in puffa jackets, hats and storm gear, wandered up Ross Road. In the meantime, Summer arrived in Stanley. The sun certainly had his hat on, and sunscreen was more appropriate than Gortex. Jackets came off, beanies were exchanged for baseball caps and eyes disappeared behind sunglasses.
Picnic tables were now at a premium, and core temperatures were kept under control by internal application of cold Falklands beer. Fabulous.
And to crown the whole experience, severe weather warnings of snow and ice have been issued for the UK

Earwigs
The hot topics of conversation at Government House and indeed across all Stanley, and possibly extending into Camp are The Airbridge and Earwigs.

I won’t elaborate in the Airbridge just now, but perhaps later.

Why earwigs. There are lots of the little creatures. At home, they tumble out of the outdoor electric sockets when the covers are opened, but here, they peep out of nailbrushes and loofahs to mention just two personal bathroom items. How many earwigs make an infestation? I suppose that the absolute number varies by location. A round dozen would qualify in a food shop, but not under a stone in the garden. It has made me careful when taking a shower.

Then there is the urban myth of one of these aptly named Arthropods crawling into your ear whilst you sleep. Perhaps that is why they are called earwigs?
Mind you, in over 30 years, I have only removed one insect from an ear canal, and that was a moth. In the doctors’ huddle at the Government House the clinical experience was much the same; none were earwigs. Now, daddy– longlegs, that is an entirely different matter …..

Penguins
More penguin photos to follow, once I get closer to the little chaps. In the meantime, chocolate for Easter

Quiet

Peace and quiet isn’t offered here, it is just the way things are. The feeling is at being on the edge of the world. Not in a cliff rearing sense, but in the sense that things will continue without us having to look after them. At home, stop caring for the land, and it becomes less – perhaps more scruffy, certainly less tamed and productive.
Here, it just continues
There is a sign at Surf Bay to the East of Stanley that states that the land has been replanted and that care should be taken not to disturb the natural vegetation. The land was doing just fine for 28 years, though it did nurture a deadly sting.

Mines

Things made of plastic, a bit of metal spring and enough explosive to shred your leg or ‘mullah’ it as an orthopaedic colleague says. An area denial weapon, scattered here and there by the Argentinian invaders; bought from Italy and brought from Argentina to the Falklands. The Falklanders did not want to be invaded, and they certainly did not want the legacy of the mines. In truth, none of those countries around the world blighted by the scourge of mines and IED’s wanted them: think of Namibia, Afghanistan, Cambodia etc etc.
No one has been damaged recently by the mines and they are being sought out and removed. The problem is the peat.
Mines placed 1 foot beneath the surface are slowly but surely being sucked into Mother Earth. They may be 3 feet below the ground now and often are. Stepping over one may trigger it and it may not. Some are even designed not to blow up when a vehicle tyre passes overhead. They wait for the step of the frail human foot.

Well, won’t the explosive power just decay away? You may be aware that explosives used in the Great War aka WWI still have about a quarter of their original power. I don’t know about modern explosives, which of course have an improved power to weight ratio – that is, the speed of combustion is much faster – amongst other things.
Munitions left by the Russians still maim children in Afghanistan 30 years later. Remember, that is for munitions subject to the extremes of the Afghan climate – extremes of heat and cold.
Well here in the Falklands, we have peat. Remember what the stable anaerobic environment of peat does to dead animals and humans and to wood also. Think about Culloden bog oak – thousands of years old and still makes excellent handles for Skean Dubhs. It seems to do the same for those plastic mines. A bit of a wash and they look as new as the day they came off the shelves.

So the mine fences rust and decay, the triangular signs fade (though now augmented with pictographs clearly illustrating the consequences of meeting with one of these weapons), but the menace remains.

Falklands blog for Thursday March 14 2013
Walking
Walking is good. Why are lots of people in their cars? A 10 min walk to work with a slight stopover to tuft a nice big moggie; friendly and very fluffy. Lots of nice cats around. Only seen 2 dogs – all under restraint. The cats have the run of the place here.

Widdershins
Whoa! Beautiful morning with the sun already high at 07.50, rising in the East. To my right is the harbour, heading west. Nearly at the top of the rise, with most of the houses downhill, or north. A bit of a start, with the sun in the Southern Hemisphere going the ‘wrong’ way around ie anticlockwise. Now, before clocks, the name was and continues to be widdershins

Is the pope an Argentinian?
It seems that he is. Perhaps he does not like Ms Kirchner?
Stupid question of the day from the Sky reporter – will the pope be welcome in the Falklands and would you roll out the red carpet for him.
— yes, and I’m afraid that I don’t think we have a red carpet

The road from Stanley to Mount Pleasant Airport is a poor road. It seems to have got worse since I last travelled this way many years ago. It has a mix of metalled cover and loose gravel. The loose gravel or unsurfaced part is in the ascendent in length and teeth rattling awfulness. Ridges, enormous potholes and increasing wear render this a nightmare for vehicles, and their occupants; imagine being a patient with abdominal pain or a fracture, enduring this journey. Have I said enough?

4 seasons in a day. Cold this am, so it was a cold dry walk down the hill to the bread shop for a tasty brown whole meal loaf. Working in a bakery in this weather has its benefits. I will order a spelt loaf for later in the week. It will make a nice change from white sliced supermarket bread.
At lunchtime, mild with no wind but we now have snow from the South. I suppose that the hail that came and went first thing this am during breakfast, completes the seasons.